


Addicted to You

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Eli is having a very bad day, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff and Crack, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Addiction, Journalist Eli Vanto, Language Barrier, M/M, Modern AU, Palpatine Family Diner, Roommates, Thrawn is bad at math, Waiters & Waitresses, fake dating au, meet cute
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:40:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29616510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Eli Vanto's lost everything: his job, his house, his car. He's got nowhere to go but down.Or at least, that's what he thinks until he meets Thrawn.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	1. Chapter 1

Talk about a bad day!

Eli Vanto, star journalist, was having just the worst day ever. Or maybe I should say … ex star journalist? That’s right, Eli had just lost his job at the Daily Newspaper, and even worse, he’d also lost his house because his landlord had a rule that only people with jobs could live there for some reason, something to do with money. Eli had never paid rent anyway so he didn’t understand why it was suddenly such a big deal now. 

And now, just to add shit icing to the shit cake, his car was being towed!

“Noooo!” Eli bellowed, racing after the tow truck. His little legs pistoned as hard as they could as he chased it down. “Please, come back! That car is my house now!”

The truck driver flipped him off and chucked an empty can of Arizona iced tea at Eli’s head. Eli ducked, so the can just barely missed him, but because he was ducking he didn’t see the yellow 1999 Yugo barreling toward him from the other side of the parking lot (if you don’t know what a Yugo looks like, look it up. This is vital for the story).

Eli was still hopelessly chasing after his car when suddenly the Yugo hit him right in the shins! He toppled over the top of it, rolled over like a billion times, and came to a stop on the pavement behind the car. The Yugo screeched to a halt.

“Oh no,” said the man inside, but not in English because he didn’t speak it. “What have I done?”

He got out of his car, his waitress uniform flapping in the wind and revealing his muscular thighs. Quickly, he hurried to Eli’s.

“Ooooogh,” said Eli, gurgling in pain. He squinted up at the man squatting next to him, who was wearing a too-small waitress uniform that revealed a whole heck of a lot front his position.

“Are you hurt?” said the man, but not in English.

“What?” said Eli, yes in English.

The man paused, switching languages. “Are you hurt?” he asked again, this time in Chinese.

This went on for quite some time. In the end, the man who’d hit Eli with his car finally stumbled across a language they shared: Wookiee. Or I guess it’s called Shyriiwook according to Wikipedia.

“Hrghlrhralgh?” the waitress man asked. This mans are you hurt.

“Grough,” Eli said, which means yes, but not too bad, mostly just my pride.

The man in the waitress uniform -- by the way he has blue skin and red eyes -- helped Eli up off the ground very gently. “It’s okay,” he said in Shyriiwook. “I guess that guy in the tow truck stole your car?”

“Yeah,” said Eli with a groan. He sat up, leaning against the waitress. “I’m Eli Vanto by the way. I was a journalist but I got fired recently. Who the hell are you?”

“I’m Thrawn,” said Thrawn. His name was very hard to say in Shyriiwook. “I work over there at Palpatine’s Family Style Diner. Our specialty is ham on rye.”

“Oh wow,” said Eli. “I like ham on rye. Too bad I don’t have any money.” He sighed in sadness. “Or also a home. That car was where I sleep at night.”

“That sucks so bad,” said Thrawn sympathetically. “Hey, why don’t you come to the diner with me? You see, I am dreadfully bad at math. So so so bad at math. And my boss Emperor Palpatine says waitresses have to calculate things like the price of food and the change and other math stuff. I’m no good at it. Are you good at numbers?”

Eli’s face lit up. “Boy, am I ever!” he said. “Other than journalism, math is my favorite thing!” 

He leapt to his feet, suddenly feeling not so hurt anymore, and walked with Thrawn to Palpatine’s Family Style Diner. Inside it was very homey but also infused with the Dark Side. The red vinyl seats and jukebox in the corner were cozy though. Eli was a big fan of the heads on pikes. He joined Thrawn at the counter, where almost immediately a nasty ugly guy ordered a trout sandwich.

“That’ll be three-fifty,” Thrawn said.

The guy handed him a five. Thrawn stared at Eli like a deer in headlights. 

“One-fifty,” Eli mouthed.

Looking relieved, Thrawn removed a dollar and fifty cents from his change pocket and handed it to the ugly guy, who didn’t speak Shyriiwook, so he didn’t realize that Eli had helped. When the guy left with his trout sandwich, Thrawn turned to Eli, a peculiar sadness on his face.

“I was exiled by my people for a preemptive strike,” he said mournfully. “And also for not knowing how to make change. But now that you’re here, I feel so much better.”

“Thanks,” Eli said. “Hey, can I move in with you?”

“Yes,” said Thrawn. He sighed, leaning against the counter. “By the way, that guy who stole your truck?” he said. “That’s Krennic. He’s a real piece of work. He makes fun of me all the time for not making change or speaking English.”

“Wow,” said Eli. “Wow what a dick.”

“And he stole your car,” said Thrawn.

“Yeah.”

They finished Thrawn’s shift and went to Thrawn’s house, which was a really nice bachelor pad with beanbag chairs and a water bed, and also with beaded curtains hanging from the doorways. There weren’t really any doors except on the bathroom but that was okay, and every room in the house had shag carpet. It was psychedelic. Eli began to feel uncomfortable; this was sort of like a druggie’s home. Not that he was judgy. He hadn’t told Thrawn this, but one of the reasons he got fired from his job was because of his glue sniffing addiction, and if Thrawn was a druggie, Eli might have trouble keeping clean. 

“Do you like the decor?” Thrawn asked, taking off his waitress uniform and slipping into something more comfortable and kind of goth. “I got it from my manager Tarkin at a garage sale last year. It reminds me of the way the light sparkled off the ice back home.”

“Oh?” Eli turned to him, feeling slightly relieved. Did this mean Thrawn wasn’t a hippie? “Where’s home?”

“Antarctica,” said Thrawn wistfully. 

That explained why he didn’t speak English. 

“Well anyway,” said Thrawn. “I’m going to go to sleep on the water bed and you can have one of the beanbags if you like. Hey maybe if you help me make change, you can live here for free.”

“I’d like that,” said Eli. “Goodnight Thrawn.”

Thrawn curled up on the water bed which swayed tantalizingly beneath him. “Goodnight, Eli,” he said. “I’m sorry for hitting you with my car.”


	2. Chapter 2

A new day, a new me! Eli thought cheerfully as he woke up. Thrawn was already up and moving around, tying the waitress apron behind his back. He’d taken a shower while Eli was still sleeping and his hair was damp in a very sexy way, not that Eli was thinking about his new roommate like that.

“Good morning,” Eli said in English, forgetting for a moment that that was pretty much the only language Thrawn didn’t know. Thrawn gave him a politely puzzled look. He threw his head back for a proper Wookiee style gargle.

“Good morning,” he gargled. His pronunciation was flawless. “We have a busy day today. Chef Darth Vader texted me while you were sleeping and he’s already in the kitchen getting ready for today. He has to slice _so_ many avocados.”

“Why?” asked Eli, pulling on his thigh high boots. He only had one pair. “What’s today?”

Thrawn looked at him in shock. “It’s the Emperor’s birthday,” he said, surprised that Eli didn’t know. “What are you, some kind of rube?”

Eli’s cheeks stung. “Actually, I am,” he said, ducking his head. “I may talk like a big city reporter now but that’s just because I’ve been a big city reporter for so long. Actually I was born in a trailer park. I’m a trailer park boy.”

Thrawn knelt in front of him, his face soft with sympathy and regret. He put a hand on Eli’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to make fun of you, Eli,” he said. “I’m a rube too. You don’t get much rubier than Antarcita.”

Eli supposed that was true.

“And I love Trailer Park Boys,” Thrawn added gently. He gave Eli’s shoulder a friendly pat and stood. “Nice thigh highs by the way.”

“Thanks, I got them on sale,’ Eli said. He stood, stretching from his long night on the bean bag. “So it’s Palpatine’s birthday huh?” he said. “I guess that’s a pretty big deal, especially for a family style diner named after him. Is he going to be there today?”

“Oh yes,” said Thrawn, looking a little nervous, but excited too. “Tonight’s the big party. Everyone in town will be there, or at least everyone who isn’t a Rebel terrorist. You’re not a Rebel terrorist right?”

Eli thought about it but couldn’t remember doing anything particularly terrorist-y. “I guess not. The newspaper I used to work for was pretty pro-Palpatine.” He thought some more. “Once I wrote an op-ed titled Alderaan Destroyed, or Just Fake News?”

“You should be fine then,” Thrawn assured him. He didn’t say whether he thought it was fake news or not. He and Eli left the psychedelic bachelor pad together and walked down to Thrawn’s Yugo, which had a nifty painting of a chimaera drawn on the side. This was not mentioned in the previous chapter because I didn’t think of it yet.

“That’s cool,” Eli said, pointing it out. “Did you paint that by yourself?”

“Yeah,” said Thrawn. He got into the driver’s seat but had to hunch over a little because he was too tall. His waitress uniform slipped back somewhat, revealing his muscular thighs and tight underwear. “It’s a chimaera. It’s really important to me.”

“What is it, exactly?” Eli asked.

“It’s from Fullmetal Alchemist,” Thrawn said.

They drove to work quietly, jamming out a little to the song [Hot Butter Popcorn](https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=YfdLh0MHqKw) on a loop. It was Eli’s favorite song. He banged his head to it a bunch, but Thrawn just nodded a long and sang the “boo boo boo boo boo boo boo” parts.

As soon as they entered the diner, they were both absolutely blown away by how busy it was. Chef Darth Vader was in the kitchen, his mechanical suit smeared with oil. He wiped sweat off his helmet and muttered something angry sounding under his breath as Thrawn and Eli walked in. Behind the counter was a handsome man in a white waitress uniform who looked kind of like Ben Mendelsohn.

“You’re late Thrawn,” he said.

It was Krennic, the guy who towed Eli’s car and threw an Arizona iced tea at him the day before. 

“I’m not late,” Thrawn protested, but he wasn’t sure. His bad math skills included not being able to tell the time. He snuck a glance at the clock but couldn’t really read it, so he let the subject drop. 

“Mr. Palpatine wants a Subway style dinner tonight,” Krennic said.

Thrawn paused, shooting him a bewildered look. “What?” he said. “But we don’t do subway sandwiches. We specialize in ham on rye. He always wants a pizza dinner.”

Krennic shrugged smugly, as if it wasn’t his problem what Palpatine wanted. “He said Subway,” said Krennic.

“Well, okay,” said Thrawn, looking flustered. “I guess we can order catering by Subway.”

“Not catering by Subway,” said Krennic. “He wants us to make him Subway food. Duh. God Thrawn you’re such an idiot sometimes.”

Eli felt a flash of temper and stepped forward. “Hey, that’s not very nice,” he said. “Thatrn might be bad at math and telling time and home decorating--”

“And politics,” Thrawn told him. “But I’m good at preemptive strikes.”

“--and politics,” Eli said. “But that doesn’t mean he’s an idiot. You’re bad at stuff too Krennic.”

“Oh yeah?” Krennic sneered. “Like what?”

It was at this moment that Manager Tarkin stepped inside and Krennic fell silent with an ugly flush. Around Tarkin’s neck was a flashy necklace shaped like a creepy disco ball. He had a tattoo on his right ankle that said Death Star King. Eli didn’t know what that meant. Maybe he was part of a gang.

“Back to work Krennic,” said Tarkin crisply, and to Eli’s surprise, Krennic sulked away to do his job, whatever that was. Tarkin turned his arch gaze on Eli. “And who is this?” he asked.

Thrawn hesitated, stepping forward. “This is Eli Vanto,” he said. “He’s my…”

Eli waited to see what Thrawn would say. Thrawn glanced at him nervously. He seemed hesitant to label Eli as his translator or math person or whatever, so maybe he didn’t want Tarkin to think he was dumb. But he couldn’t say Eli was just a customer either, because Eli had no money to buy ham on rye.

Squaring his shoulders, Thrawn took a deep breath and said, “Eli is my boyfriend.”

What?!?!?!


End file.
